


got a light

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greasers, Ceci n'est pas une pipe, Enemies to Lovers, First Love, First Time, Homophobic Language, M/M, Past and Present, Period-Typical Homophobia, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:18:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: They used to race each other, back in high school.





	got a light

They used to race each other, back in high school. 

No matter how far he goes, no matter how far he drives, he always feels like he’s dragged right back to Sehun’s doorstep, back to the same blacktop they used to leave even blacker marks on. A sign that they’d been there. A sign that there was something in front of them, something behind them too. A sign that they were alive.  
  


⛌

_It is June, and finals are wrapping up, and there is a cloud of smoke when Chanyeol walks into the bathroom._

_Chanyeol doesn’t mind. He went there to smoke anyway._

_But as soon as he goes in, he sees Sehun, standing there in his leather jacket that goes against the dress code, his hair slicked back, a smudge of black along his forehead. Maybe he was working in the shop this morning. Working on his car. Chanyeol imagines him, hands in the guts, sweat pouring off him. It is a tempting image, as they all are._

_Sehun’s attention snaps to Chanyeol, and he looks Chanyeol up and down, a little sneer painted across his handsome face._

_“Fuck are you doing here?” Sehun asks._

_He is standing next to the window, the panel pushed out, half his smoke already burned away, the cigarette dangling from his hand in that cool, stupid way that makes Chanyeol want to throw it all away and push him up against the wall._

_“Came for a smoke,” Chanyeol says, and he pulls his pack from his shirt pocket, sliding one out. “Didn’t know you owned the fucking bathroom.”_

_Chanyeol walks over, stands next to him, starts patting in his pocket for his lighter, but he can’t find it. He stares at Sehun, at the dizzying smoke that creeps out the open window, the ashes tapped onto the green grass outside._

_“What,” Sehun says flatly, well-aware of Chanyeol’s gaze on him._

_“I need a light.”_

_Sehun scoffs, pulling his hand away from the window, and he burns the rest of the cigarette down in one drag before putting out what’s left on the center of his palm, a little scar scarred again, before flicking the stub out the window._

_“Get bent, spaz,” Sehun says, and he turns heel, leaves Chanyeol standing there at the open window, the smoke slowly starting to filter out through the window._

_Chanyeol watches him go, but he moves slowly, slowly, like he wants to say something. Chanyeol knows the feeling, only has no fucking idea what to say. Something like_ let’s run away, and never come back. Fuck school, and fuck everything but us. __

_But he’s too scared. He just lets the seconds weigh down on them like gravity, watches Sehun slow to a stop when he swings the door open. He looks over his shoulder, and he is stone fuckin’ cold, a real ace. Chanyeol wishes he could just have a taste._

_“Drag on Friday down by the beach,” Sehun calls back. “You comin’?”_

_It’s an invitation. Chanyeol knows what he gets up to, sometimes. He hears the rumors. He’d have to be deaf not to. Sehun’s fast, plays fast and loose, and just once, Chanyeol would like to be in that backseat with him._

_“Maybe.” He leans back onto the wall, feigns a disinterest that he doesn’t feel._ Can you see through it? Can you see how much I really want you? _“Depends on how the cherry is running.”_

_Sehun scoffs, turns back around fully, and Chanyeol can’t keep his eyes off where the jacket hangs open, Sehun’s waist covered with a thin white tank that starts to ride up._

_“Scared?” he asks._

_“No,” Chanyeol argues. “I’m not scared.”_

_“See you Friday then, tough guy.” He lets his eyes glide down Chanyeol’s body. “Hope you got your tank filled.”_  
  


⛌

It’s been years since then, and when he asks the operator for information, he gets exactly what he needs. It was a small town that they lived in. All Chanyeol needed to know was his name.

He goes to his mom’s old house, and he knocks up, feeling twelve years old again, asking if so-and-so could come out and play until the streetlights came on. 

When the lady comes to the door, her hair in curlers, a pink robe tightened over her body, it is immediately evident to him that it is _not_ Sehun’s mother, not even a relative. 

“Oh, that bum,” the lady says with a wry smile, pulling the cigarette from between her lips, blowing the smoke up out of the corner of her mouth. She smells. “Works over on Calvert. He moved out a while back. Still works on my car, though. He’s mean and the shop is expensive, but he takes care of me. Good kid. A bum, but a good kid.” 

“T-Thanks,” Chanyeol says, thinking _I think_. 

Chanyeol gets back in his car, a new destination in mind. Calvert. A shop on Calvert.  
  


⛌

_They are bored. They are young. They are angry about everything._

_What Chanyeol wants more than anything was to fit in. To find that piece of something he’d always felt he’d been missing._

_There is a little street of clean black asphalt that rides close to the sand, and Chanyeol’s mouth is dry as he pulls up, the engines of a dozen other cars making the night loud, stupid with sound._

_Chanyeol watches the races even though he doesn’t want to, even though he wants to look anywhere else._

_Sehun’s car is next to his in line, and as the cars streak down the warmly lit strip, they get closer and closer to the start line, waiting for their turn. He doesn’t know why they do this shit. He doesn’t know why they pretend to hate each other. Well, Chanyeol knows, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say. Not yet._

_But there is something different about that evening, something about the breeze off the ocean, the way it ruffles Sehun’s hair. His car is black, almost invisible in the night, but the chrome is shiny. Chanyeol wonders if he cleaned it today in preparation of their race. It’s a mating call, one just for him._ Polished her up, just for you. Take her for a spin. __

_When they finally get to the front, they get out of their cars, and Chanyeol looks him up and down. He is wearing just a thin white tank, jeans, white Chuck Taylors, and Chanyeol feels hot in his jacket. For a moment, he considers stripping it off, throwing it into the passenger’s seat._

_“Money on it?” the man asks._

_Chanyeol hesitates. He knows Sehun’s… situation._

_“Ten bucks,” Sehun says, and that’s not nothing, not for them._

_Ten bucks is souping up the suspension. Ten bucks is a crisp clean leather jacket and enough leftover for a couple handles of liquor if you could convince someone to buy for you. Ten bucks is about four hundred packs of cigarettes, give or take the gas station you went to._

_Ten bucks can get you real far when you’re eighteen and ready for anything._

_The man looks at him expectantly._

_“Yeah, okay,” Chanyeol says, and he sticks out his hand._

_Sehun takes it, and it’s little more than that, just a touch of their hands to show the agreement, but Chanyeol can feel sparks of yellow light between them like off a VW with a magnesium engine block. He’s seen one catch fire. He knows what the feeling is._

_They get back to their cars, and they pull up to the starting line, a girl with bleach blonde hair standing between them, a little red handkerchief in her hand, her lips painted pink._

_She raises her thin arm, and Chanyeol looks across to Sehun, sees him smirk._

_Chanyeol turns back, watches the red. His foot hovers over the medal._

_“Ready. Set.”_

_She lowers the handkerchief, and Chanyeol stomps his foot down, lays a patch right there. Lets the car do the rest._

_He can’t hear anything, can’t really see all that well either, but the lights are streaking past him. Noise, noise, noise, and his whole body is on fire, he’s sitting on hot metal, there is white light and blackness, white and black, and within a second, within the blink of an eye, it’s over._

_He narrowly wins, just the fucking nose of his front bumper out in front of Sehun’s, and as they slow to a stop, Chanyeol glances over, ready with a look of triumph on his face, but Sehun is staring back at him, tears in his eyes._

__Is it because you lost? Is it because I won? Or is it something different? Is it something else entirely? __

 _For a second, a long second, he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, but it occurs to him then that this is the moment he’s been waiting for._ Do something. You always said you wanted to do something, so now, you have to do it.

_“Hey,” Chanyeol shouts, the roar of the races still raging behind them. “Follow me.”_

_Sehun's face twists, and he looks every bit a loser._

_“Fuck off.”_

_“Come on,” Chanyeol goads, and he revs his engine with a smile. “Scared?”_

_Sehun rolls his eyes, follows where Chanyeol leads._  
  


⛌

He goes to the shop hesitantly, and he parks out front, stands half inside, half outside, watching men mill around, listening to the familiar sounds of the body shop.

It is not long before he sees Sehun, and my, how the years have changed him. 

He is taller now, probably only just an inch shorter than Chanyeol. His hair is a little less greased back. He looks a little cleaner cut. A little less rambunctious, rebellious. A little more sanded down. 

Sehun wears a jumpsuit, same as the rest of the workers, but it looks best on him, dark blue, his name tag sewn just above the heart. He’s got it unbuttoned, and Chanyeol sees a little bit of his chest. He’s filled out. He looks bigger now. 

He must feel eyes on him because he looks over, sees Chanyeol staring, and the look… Chanyeol can’t describe it. Something like disbelief. 

_Believe it, bucko_ , Chanyeol thinks. _I told you I’d be back._

Sehun walks over, shaking his head with a smile, and Chanyeol finds himself smiling back, leaning against the frame of the building, waiting for Sehun to say hello. 

“Can I be honest?” Sehun asks, looking up at Chanyeol through heavy, dark eyelashes. “I never thought I’d see you again.” 

“Here I am,” Chanyeol says. “In the flesh.” 

Sehun smiles like he can’t help it, reaches out and punches Chanyeol in the shoulder lightly. 

“What are you doing here? Just back for a visit?” 

“Something like that,” Chanyeol says coyly. “I have some unfinished business to attend to.” 

“Oh yeah? Where’s the business, huh?” 

“What, you writing a book?” 

Sehun leans forward towards him, and Chanyeol wants to meet it. 

“I’m only working until three,” Sehun says. “If you’re not finished with your business by then…” 

“I won’t be.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he bites his lip, looks back over his shoulder. “I gotta get back to work. It’d look bad if I cut out.” 

“Yeah, well, you know me,” Chanyeol says. “Bad news.”  
  


⛌

_He drives them under the overpass, and it is past midnight, so the rumbling overhead isn’t nearly as bad as it is during the day. Every once in a while, a car will tremble its way over the bridge, and the sound will echo around them._

_“Why did you bring me here?” Sehun asks, slamming his car door behind him. “What, you wanna… you wanna rub my face in it, huh?” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a few bills. “Here. Fucking take it. It’s yours.”_

_He balls the money up, throws it at Chanyeol, and it hits him in the chest before bouncing into his hands. Chanyeol stares down at the ten dollars, five ones and one five._

_“I… I didn’t want the money,” Chanyeol says. “I just wanted to talk to you, I guess.”_

_He lobs the wad of cash back over to Sehun with an underhand, and Sehun’s eyes are glassy when he catches it._

_“Talk about what?”_

_“I dunno.”_

_Sehun walks over, and his shoes crunch under the gravel._

_“Talk about what?” he asks again, and Sehun is so close that Chanyeol can smell the menthol on his breath. “Talk about what, huh?”_

_Chanyeol is quick to act._ Talk about this _, he thinks._ Talk about us.

_He takes Sehun’s face in his hands, kisses him hard, and he can barely see, barely taste anything besides Sehun, the anger inside him._

_Sehun shoves him back hard, two firm hands at Chanyeol’s shoulders, and he stumbles back, resting against his car._

_He stares at Chanyeol with wide eyes, horrified eyes, and Chanyeol hopes, hopes, hopes that he didn’t read it all wrong. Hopes, hopes, hopes that he’s not alone. He’s only ever wanted to belong. Belong with someone._

_Sehun stomps over furiously, and Chanyeol shuts his eyes, ready to be struck, but the only thing that greets him is the line of Sehun’s body against his own, his tongue slipping into Chanyeol’s mouth._

_He moans, shocked out of his daze, and Sehun swallows it._

_It fizzles through his nerves, and his body shakes as Sehun holds him by the waist, his fingers gripping the thin fabric of Chanyeol’s shirt._

_“Come on,” Sehun says, pushing Chanyeol over towards the door. “Get in.”_

_The beginning of summer heat is electric, electrifying, and he strips off his shirt, leaving only the white tank top underneath as he climbs into Sehun’s lap, the leather seat squeaking underneath his knees as he straddles him._

_It is furious, the way they embrace each other, and Chanyeol wonders if Sehun is just as scared, just as lonely as he’s always been. Chanyeol pulls the hem of Sehun’s undershirt up and over his head, throwing it behind him into the front seat, and then, he runs his hands over the flat of Sehun’s pectorals._

_Sehun looks shocked at the sound of his own moan, hurriedly pulling Chanyeol back, kissing him until there is quiet._

_They kiss until their mouths are numb and red and bee-stung, until Chanyeol leans back and tries to start kissing his way down Sehun’s throat, the shadow of it enticing._

_Sehun pushes him off, extricates himself from Chanyeol’s grasp like he’s coming to his senses._

_“I’m sorry,” Sehun says, and his voice is shaking, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m fucking doing, I’m just—”_

_“It’s okay,” Chanyeol says, and all the noise falls away._

_Even the overpass is quiet above them._

_There is silence, a tense silence, and Chanyeol doesn’t know what to say, just hits the back of his head against the headrest, turning and grinning at Sehun like he got away with something. And maybe he did._

_“Not like I wanted to go all the way in a car anyway,” Chanyeol whispers._

_“No,” Sehun laughs. “Guess not.”_

_They lay next to each other in the back seat, and eventually, their heads fall to rest against each other._

_“Can I ask you a question?” Chanyeol asks._

_“You already did.”_

_“Have you ever… with anyone?”_

_Sehun looks over at him._

_“No. You?”_

_“No.”_

_There is more quiet, stacked like bricks between them._ Knock it down _, he tells himself._ Catch him, and don’t let him run away.

_“When did you start liking me?”_

_Sehun eyes him warily._

_“Who says I started liking you?”_  
  


⛌

Chanyeol waits for Sehun outside, and he leans against the hood of his car until Sehun emerges, biting his lip.

“What?” Chanyeol laughs. “Did you think I wouldn’t show?” 

“I don’t know what I thought.” He kicks his foot over, scuffs a little dust onto Chanyeol’s shoe. “Feels like a dream.” 

“It’s only been, what, seven years?” Chanyeol says. “That’s not that long.” 

“Guess not,” Sehun says. “Feels like forever, though.” 

_What have you been up to? Have you been seeing someone? Is it hard pretending?_

_Have you ever fallen in love? I fell in love once. I fell in love with you._

_You don’t race anymore, do you? I can tell you miss it. I can tell you miss me._

_Do you kiss girls? Does your mom wonder why you haven’t gotten married yet the way mine does? Do you go to the bars and look for people who look like me? The way I do?_

Sehun turns. Looks back over his shoulder. 

“Got a bike now,” Sehun says softly. “I could show you.” Immediately, he bites down on it, backpedals like he’s trying to erase what he just said. “If you wanted, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

A little bit of light streaks back into Sehun’s eyes, just as pretty as it’s always been, and Chanyeol feels his knees go fuckin’ weak at the sight. He’s been missing this. He’s been missing him. 

The walk a little bit down the street, around the corners of the building until they’re out back, and as soon as they get there, Sehun is on him, pressing him to the brick wall, kissing him fiercely like _this, this is what I wanted to do the moment I saw you._

Chanyeol licks along Sehun’s tongue, swallows as much shock as he can manage before he pulls Sehun in by the collar of his shirt, the front of their bodies sliding the way they’ve only done once in reality, but a million times more in Chanyeol’s dreams. 

They kiss until Chanyeol can’t breathe, until their Sehun breaks the kiss and presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s cheek. 

“You… you wanna go back to mine?” Sehun asks. “I got… I mean, I got food. And beer. If you’re in town for a little while.” 

He didn’t know it would be this easy. Didn’t ever let himself dream it would be this easy. He thought there would be a fight. Some of that vitriol from years long passed. He misses it, in a sort of way, but Chanyeol remembers the way acid tasted on Sehun’s tongue. He has only imagined the way honey might taste. 

“Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll follow you. Lead the way.” 

Sehun smirks at him, just a hint of a tease, and Chanyeol is transported, thinking back to that night, thinking back to deals made in the dust, to exhaust fumes and roads they never managed to ride.  
  


⛌

_They do not leave right away. In fact, they don’t leave until morning, until the sun shatters through the black, and they are left asking each other questions._ Where do we go from here? What do we do with this secret?

_“What are you doing after school ends?” Sehun asks, staring at the ceiling of the car before turning, all that burning gaze put on Chanyeol. “Do you think your gonna pass? Do you think you’ll graduate?”_

_“I dunno. All that shit’s for squares.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Quiet. Thick, scary quiet. They watch the top of the car. It is white, turning orange as the day breaks._

_“After school, though,” Sehun says. “What are you gonna do?”_

_“I’m gonna leave,” Chanyeol says, and he looks at Sehun, a bead of sweat dripping from his hair down his face. “You should come with me.”_

_Sehun scoffs._

_“Yeah?” He looks at the pack of cigarettes sitting on the console in front of them, reaches up to grab them. Chanyeol watches his obliques work, the tensing and shifting of his muscles under his skin. He pats the end of the box. “What are we gonna do, huh?” He slides out one of the cigarettes, doesn’t offer one to Chanyeol even though they’re Chanyeol’s. “Where are we gonna go?”_

_He tosses the pack to Chanyeol, lets the cigarette hang from the corner of his lips as he raises his eyebrows at Chanyeol, like_ well? __

_“I dunno,” Chanyeol says, and he picks out a cigarette. There are only three left in the pack, two after he’s done. “Wherever you want.” He pats his pocket for his lighter, but he must have lost it again. “We can do whatever you wanna do.”_

_“I don’t wanna do anything like that. I don’t wanna run away,” Sehun says, mumbling around his unlit cigarette. “I got people I’m supposed to be looking out for. I got people I’m supposed to care about.”_

__What about me? Don’t you care about me?

_“Maybe in a few years, then,” Chanyeol suggests. “When you’re ready." He pats his pocket again. Still no flame. "You got a light?”_

_Sehun stares at him like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle, and Chanyeol wonders what he means with all that._

_He takes the cigarette out from between his lips, and he snaps it in two, chucks the pieces through the window. When he looks back at Chanyeol, his eyes are wet, his brow is furrowed, and his face is red._

__Why are you so upset? What did I do?

_“What do you think you’re fuckin’ doing, huh?” Sehun says. “You think you’re gonna be Prince Charming, and we’re just… what, we’re just gonna live happily ever after?”_

_“I dunno,” Chanyeol says. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I just thought it would be fun.”_

_“Fun.” He scoffs. Takes Chanyeol’s jaw in his hand. Kisses him hard, like it’s a bite. Like he’s sinking his teeth into flesh. “You don’t think, do you?”_

_“No,” Chanyeol says. “Not really.”_

__I don’t think. If I think, it’s all about you. Nothing else matters. Not really. __

_“I wish I wasn’t like this,” Sehun says. “I wish I was anyone but me.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because I love you.”_

_Chanyeol is silent, doesn’t know how to say the words that he’s thought a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times._

_Sehun gingerly opens the door like he’s waiting for a response, and he steps outside when it is clear that he will not get one._  
  


⛌

The sweat is building on his brow as they climb up the stairs to Sehun’s apartment, and Chanyeol tries not to stare as he follows Sehun up, his thighs working, his body so… tempting.

Sehun fishes his keys out of his jeans, the pockets tight, and Chanyeol stands nearby, his bag in his hand. 

“How much do you pay?” Chanyeol asks. “The building is pretty spiffy.” 

“130 a month,” Sehun says. “It’s small, but—” 

He opens the door, lets Chanyeol walk in first. He quickly slides out of his shoes, looks around. 

It is sparsely decorated, but there is a vase of flowers on the table, and that gives it quite a homey touch. Almost like a woman lives there. Interestingly enough, it does not smell like cigarettes. Chanyeol thought that it would. 

“It’s nice,” Chanyeol says, and then, with a little snort, “nicer than I thought it would be.” 

Sehun shoves Chanyeol, and Chanyeol stumbles a bit, laughing, and there is a strange sort of camaraderie here. The kind he doesn’t remember leaving behind. _Weren’t we enemies once_ , he thinks. _Didn’t we hate each other?_

“You want a beer?” Sehun asks. 

He is already at the small refrigerator, so Chanyeol takes a seat on the small couch, throws his arms over the back of it. 

“If you’re having one, I’ll have one.” 

Sehun returns with two cans of Pabst, and he turns on the television but doesn’t seem to fuss with the channel at all. Sehun sits beside him, and they both stare at the TV as they pop the tabs on the beers, the hiss filling up the room with noise. 

It’s set to ABC, and a game show called _Who Do You Trust?_ is playing. The man says that he trusts his wife to answer the question on musicians. 

“Bandstand comes on in, oh, about ten minutes,” Sehun comments, sipping at his beer. 

“Watch a lot of Bandstand, do you?” 

Sehun turns, squints at him. “All right, wise guy. Enough.” 

It’s strange, to be sitting there, drinking Sehun’s beer in Sehun’s house as if nothing has happened. As if everything is normal. 

They crush their beers in a few minutes, silently watching the stupid little game show. Chanyeol sits there, thinking that maybe Sehun lost his nerve. Maybe he was just confused. Maybe he changed his mind. Chanyeol will leave it at that. He’s not in the business of forcing anything on anyone. 

Just as Chanyeol is about to stand, thank Sehun for his hospitality, Sehun turns to him, clears his throat. 

“So, uh, you got anywhere to stay tonight?” 

Chanyeol’s stomach goes unbearably warm. Sehun must know how those words sound. 

“No,” Chanyeol says. “All my family moved away. I was thinking about checking into a motel. Unless…” 

“Unless?” 

“Unless you had another idea,” Chanyeol says. 

Sehun furrows his brow, frowns, like Chanyeol is putting him through the ringer, and then, he surges across the gap, Chanyeol’s face in his hands as he kisses him. 

Chanyeol’s back falls to the cushions of the couch, and Sehun settles between his legs, their bodies grinding. It feels like that night, it feels like he is eighteen again, his first kiss in the back of a 1954 Chevrolet Corvette, cherry red and pure as anything. He’s seen so much since then, done so much, and still, he keeps coming back to Sehun. 

Sehun starts to tremble as he moves against Chanyeol, the dry grind of their bodies too much. 

“We should move,” Sehun says, his voice shaking. “I-If you want.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t wait for any more invitation than that, just takes Sehun by the hand and pulls him up from the couch to the bedroom, putting him on the edge of the bed and kneeling between his spread legs. 

“W-What are you doing?” Sehun gasps. 

“I’m sure you can put two and two together,” Chanyeol says, and he unbuttons Sehun’s pants, slides the zipper down carefully. He nudges until Sehun raises his hips, until he can slide them down comfortable, Sehun’s hard cock bobbing out. “Unless you don’t want it.” 

But Sehun wants it. That much Chanyeol knows. 

Sehun rests his head on the back of Chanyeol’s head, lets him do what he wants.

He wraps his thumb and his pointer finger around the base before kissing and sucking wetly at where Sehun’s thighs are bared. He can’t help himself. He’s dreamt about it for so long, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about what it would be like to kiss him here, touch him here. 

“Lick it,” Sehun whines. “Please, lick it.” 

Chanyeol looks up at Sehun, sees a wantonness he’s never seen before. 

“You want me to lick it?” 

Sehun bites his lip. Nods. Is he too dizzy to speak? 

Still, Chanyeol can’t ignore a plea so sweet, so he leans down, licks away the precome, sucks the head into his mouth without a second's hesitation. 

Sehun freezes, his whole body shaking as Chanyeol sucks on him, loves on him, tries to put so many years into it. A thousand kisses and more. 

“C-Chanyeol,” Sehun moans. “Stop, I’m—” 

Chanyeol pops off wetly, smirking before sticking his tongue out, slapping the head of Sehun’s cock against his tongue until Sehun whimpers. 

“What?” he asks. “Didn't really figure you for a minute man.” 

Sehun’s look of arousal turns to a scowl, and he forcefully pulls Chanyeol up by his shoulders, starts roughly stripping him of his clothes. 

“You’re gonna regret that,” Sehun says, and Chanyeol doesn’t think he will. Not at all. 

The clothes fall to the carpeted floor softly, and once they’re naked, Chanyeol’s hands touch Sehun’s body on their own accord, bidding him forward. _Touch me more. Love me more._

They fall to the bed, Sehun first, Chanyeol on top of him, and they moan as they push up against each other, frenetic and unskilled. Chanyeol marks it down to passion. Passion and some leftover anger. What were they so angry for? 

Sehun holds Chanyeol by the hips, but it’s moving too slow, Chanyeol wants… Chanyeol _wants_. He takes one of Sehun’s hands, moves it to hold him by the ass, happy when he gets the fucking hint and squeezes him close. 

“Oh shit,” Chanyeol says, “fuck, just…” 

“What?” 

“I gotta get…,” and he leaps up from the bed, goes out to his bag, returning with the little tube of Vaseline. “Sorry.” 

“O-Oh,” Sehun says. “Right, I… I didn’t think about—about that.” 

He would bet his life on Sehun never having done anything so fucking lewd with another guy, but Chanyeol’s been thinking about Sehun every time he’s ever managed to get his hands or mouth on a cock, so having the real thing in front of him, finally having Sehun in his arms… it is some kind of drug. 

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol says. “I thought for the both of us.” 

“First time for everything,” Sehun says. 

Chanyeol squints, gets down on the bed with three slick fingers, and starts to open himself up. He’s done it plenty of times, and he knows boys can be squeamish about it their first times. 

“You don’t want me to do it?” Sehun asks. 

“No. I got it.” 

“Next time, maybe,” Sehun says, something like hope in his voice, and Chanyeol thinks _Oh. Next time._

He wets Sehun’s cock, thinks about how it might feel to flip the positions. Framing Sehun’s ass with his hands, sliding inside. Hot, wet. Tight. He closes his eyes as he imagines it for a moment, sliding the fingers back inside himself. He’s good. He’s… he’s finally ready for this. 

“How should we, I mean…d-do you want me to get on top?” Sehun asks. 

“Can I do it like this?” He stares down at Sehun’s body, at the thin layer of sweat on him. “I really wanna do it like this.” 

Chanyeol watches as Sehun swallows, the line of his neck rolling. 

“Okay.” 

Chanyeol straddles him, thighs outside Sehun’s as he reaches behind his body, gently grabbing at Sehun’s cock, feeling the way he jumps. He is slick, he’s ready, and he slowly sinks down onto Sehun, feeling the air pushed out as he becomes accustomed to the feeling. Sehun is so big, fills him up completely, doesn’t leave room for anything else. 

“Are you okay?” Sehun asks. “Does it hurt? Should I—” 

Chanyeol can’t take it. He is so cute, so sweet. 

He kisses him, holds his face as he does it. He kisses him, tries to tell him all the words he meant to say. _I was gonna tell you that night. I was gonna say it back. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. I love you. I love you._

When he starts to work his hips in earnest, he sits up stick-straight, rolls his body as best he knows how. He watches Sehun, doesn’t take his eyes off him except for when Sehun blinks, squeezes his eyes shut. _Look at me. Love me._

“You look so… so beautiful,” Sehun whispers. 

“I think I could drown in you,” Chanyeol whispers. “I really think I could.” 

Sehun grits his teeth, his jaw working. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispers back. “Just… _just_.” 

And maybe this could never be the kind of poetic thing Chanyeol wishes it could be. Maybe that’s just not who they are. They are dirty, unkind, the reflection of the world in the mirror. But he can feel the desperation in Sehun, the desire, and he cannot deny it. Could never deny it. 

Chanyeol moves his hips, listens for the inelegant little moans that Sehun tries to stifle. Chanyeol wants to earn them, so he fucks him the way that seems to illicit the most sounds. He makes long strokes of his hips, all the way in, almost all the way out, and he grinds once their bodies are pressed together. 

It is too slow a pace, it feels too loving, and Sehun groans, digs his nails into Chanyeol’s hands. 

“Fucking _fuck_ me,” he says, but he is whining as Chanyeol squeezes Sehun’s cock rhythmically. He can’t help it. “Chanyeol, please.” 

It is the sound of his own name that sets him off, makes his hips thrust hard and fast on their own accord. His name falling from Sehun’s mouth, a reminder of who they were and who they are now. 

He rides Chanyeol as fast as he can manage, looking down at Sehun’s body beneath his own like it’s a dream. Sehun has his eyes screwed shut, and Chanyeol wonders if it’s the first time he’s ever been inside someone. _No,_ he thinks, _no fucking way. He would have came by now. It’s too fucking tight. Too fucking hot._

The thought of Sehun fucking someone else is unbearable, and so Chanyeol rotates his hips, clenches down as he throws his head back on a moan, and when he looks back down, Sehun is staring up at him in awe. 

_That’s right. Never anyone else. Just me._

“Help me,” Chanyeol whines, and he takes Sehun’s hands, directs them to his hips. “Help me move.” 

All he can hear is the racket of their breath, and all he can feel is Sehun trembling beneath him. He starts to move, back and forth, back and forth, and then he can start to feel Sehun push and pull his body. It feels delicious, feels better than it’s ever felt before, and he chalks it up to Sehun being a quick learner. Chalks it up to Sehun knowing exactly what to do and say to trap him. 

Sehun pushes Chanyeol back, and slowly, he feels Sehun’s begin to push him back until he has to scramble for purchase, falling backwards so that his hands are behind him, his feet underneath him now. 

“Stay there,” Sehun says. “Just…” 

And then Sehun plants his feet underneath Chanyeol, starts to thrust into him. 

It is a chain reaction, messy and hot, and Chanyeol starts to groan as Sehun strokes his cock in time, sliding up against his most sensitive place. It is a bright and all-consuming pleasure, the type that makes you go crazy, the kind that makes you die a little as you gasp to get your breath back in your fucking lungs. 

_How did he manage that? To drive me crazier in love with him with just a little lay?_

“Oh,” Chanyeol moans. “Oh my god. Right there.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks, biting his lip before he thrusts up, grinding against Chanyeol. “Is that good?” 

Chanyeol wants with every fiber of him to be able to keep the angle while simultaneously being able to kiss Sehun, but he supposes there will be time for that later. Maybe. Maybe Sehun will want to do it again before he leaves. Hell, maybe Chanyeol won’t have to leave without Sehun. Maybe this could be something like a forever. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—” 

“Are you going to come?” Chanyeol asks, and he reaches down, starts to pull at his cock, wet at the tip. He’s so hard that he can feel his heartbeat there, the blood hot through his whole body. “Are you going to come?” 

Sehun’s hands tighten tighten, fingertips digging in so hard that Chanyeol thinks maybe he’ll have bruises come morning. 

“Chanyeol,” he moans, and he makes the most beautiful expression, like he’s coming apart in ribbons only for Chanyeol to braid him back together again. 

He thrusts up, up, up, and Chanyeol clenches around him, painting him. Marking him. _Mine. Mine. Mine._  
  


⛌

Sehun doesn’t have a bath, only a shower stall. It is close quarters when they get inside, their bodies wet, sliding against each other easily.

“You didn’t need to do this,” Chanyeol says. “I can get it by myself.” 

But Sehun seems determined, and _okay,_ Chanyeol thinks. _If he wants to._

Sehun pushes him up against the tiled wall, slides a thigh between his legs, and they kiss softly, much softer than before, and they wash up slowly. They do not rush it. They take their time. It feels like forever, standing under the rainfall, waiting for the dam to burst. 

They dry off with towels with pills in the fabric, and when they lay back to bed, dressed in clothes a bit more comfortable, Sehun opens his arms, lets Chanyeol fall to him. 

It’s a peaceful quiet that they share, and Sehun’s fingers stroke through Chanyeol’s hair, petting and scratching against his scalp. 

“Come with me,” he whispers sleepily. 

More quiet. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Sehun whispers. “What, you trying to play Prince Charming again?” 

“No.” He pushes a kiss to Sehun’s chest. “Just thought—” 

Sehun takes Chanyeol’s jaw in his hand, kisses him hard. 

“Well, you thought wrong, bozo,” Sehun says. “Wise up before you wanna start talking about playing house. We’re not kids. It’s not like people are gonna be peachy keen if they see two grown men living together, staying in a one bedroom.”

“I’d sleep on the couch.” 

It is a silly offer, and Chanyeol knows better. Sehun looks at him like he knows he knows better. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “You’re right.” 

Sehun looks off distantly as if he doesn’t _want_ to be right, and hey, Chanyeol doesn’t blame him. Sometimes it’s no fun, being who they are, washed up greasers who have to wait until the world changes, stuck in love. 

But Chanyeol looks at him, looks at his beautiful face and the way he glows. And yeah, he’s a queer, he’s a fairy, he’s a fucking faggot, he doesn’t give a shit anymore. He’s in _love_. Always has been. Probably always will be. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, and he reaches over to the bedside table, offers a cigarette to Sehun with a little nudge. “Want one?” 

Sehun shrugs, takes the cigarette.

Chanyeol pats the pocket of his pajamas sheepishly.

“Not this shit again,” Sehun says, rolling his eyes, and he turns. 

For a minute, Chanyeol thinks that maybe that’s the end of it, maybe it’s time for him to hit the road, but when Sehun turns back over, he’s got a lighter in hand, stretching it out to light Chanyeol’s cigarette before he lets the little flame burn his own alight. 

They are far apart, but the little gesture, a little hint at the affection… that’s a lot for one day. That’s so much freedom there, stretched out between the two of them. That’s a full tank of gas. That’s freshly burned rubber.

**Author's Note:**

> had to kick at least one of my chanhun wips out of the nest. this one happened to be first. i really only intended for this to be 2k and then,,,, well,,,, im a moron
> 
> thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed. i know it's a little trash but!! a little trash every now and then is okay. Well, I hope. 
> 
> let me know if you liked it bc i am a small wilting sunflower and your kind words are my sun. have a good day. love u 
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/okamiwind) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/okamiwind)


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